


this is human madness

by hapsburgs



Category: Gallagher Girls Series - Ally Carter
Genre: Gen, takes place during UWS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 21:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hapsburgs/pseuds/hapsburgs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What can everyone do? Praise and blame. This is human virtue, this is human madness." - Friedrich Nietzsche</p><p>Five people visit Catherine Goode in her confinement at Gallagher.<br/>(the high priestess, justice, the lovers, the hermit, and the fool in relation to the devil)</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is human madness

**Author's Note:**

> Well I wrote this a week ago and since Shirley finished her UWS (finally), I posted it for her. If you want to know about the summary - the high priestess and all of that, google is your friend :) they're tarot cards that I think represent everyone the most.

"Good morning, Catherine." Rachel says cheerfully, gracefully tucking her long legs under her as she takes her place on the floor across from the red head. "Sleep well?"   
        " _Wonderfully_." Catherine drawls from her place behind the glass, legs stretched in front of her. Rachel watches her as she rubs her wrists gently, chaffed from her constraints.    
        "I'm just going to ask you some questions - is that okay?" Rachel inquires, taking a sip of her coffee, and Catherine just shrugs, picking up a pad of paper and a blue crayon. "How long have you been with the Circle of Cavan?"   
        "You mean, how long was I with the Circle of Cavan?" Catherine amends, and Rachel smiles humorlessly. "Since I was fifteen."   
        "Are you lying?" Rachel asks abruptly, because they can't really risk truth serum on her again.   
        "Would you be able to tell?" Catherine's eyes meet hers, and Rachel shifts under her gaze because it's like she's staring into her _soul_ , like she knows every single secret of hers. "Do you want to color, too?"   
        The harsh, critical look has disappeared, replaced with a childlike innocence that sends a chill up Rachel's spine. Before Rachel can respond, Catherine is rolling up a sheet of paper and a green crayon, pushing it through the slit in the glass to Rachel.    
        "What did you do to my daughter? In Austria?" Rachel finally asks, eyes focused on the paper as she slowly draws a tree, refusing to look up at her.    
        "Do you really want to know how I tortured your poor daughter?" Catherine inquires, and Rachel can hear the humor in her voice. "Oh, how she would scream -"   
        "Why did you turn yourself in to us, Catherine?" Rachel grits her teeth, closes her eyes, and the crayon breaks in her hand.    
        "We're on the same side, Rachel. Really, we are." Catherine says idly, and Rachel finally looks up at her. She's coloring intently, like the only thing that matters is what she's working on. "Besides, we're Gallagher Girls. We're _sisters_." Her voice grows far away, and her hand stops moving, and Rachel can see the bitterness gleaming in her eyes. "And sisters stick together, don't they?"   
        "I have to go." Rachel stands quickly, and Catherine looks up at her in confusion.    
        "Can I have the green crayon back, at least?" She asks, and Rachel shoves it back through the slit. Rachel turns, ready to exit as Catherine begins to hum gently to herself.            
        "What did you do to Matt?" Rachel lets herself whisper, refusing to turn and let Catherine see the tears welling in her eyes.

Catherine's laugh is completely sinister, and Rachel bites her lip to stop herself from letting out a sob.   
       

* * *

 "Joe!" Catherine grins up at Joe as he shuts the door behind him, genuinely glad to see him.   
        "Catherine," He regards her coolly, leaning casually against the wall opposite of her cell.    
        "Welcome to my humble abode." She smirks, sitting cross legged on her bed. "Make yourself at home, please."   
        "You're not exactly in a position to be sarcastic." He raises an eyebrow, looking at her with a detached apathy.    
        "So, you and Rachel are getting married? How cute! I hope I get an invitation." She looks up at him brightly, and he freezes.    
        "How did you know about that?" He asks slowly, and she just hums to herself.    
        "Oh, it's obvious. You two are quite adorable. But fucking your best friend's widow - isn't that a bit of a cliche, even for you, Joe?"   
        "Do you like tormenting me?" He says dully, and she giggles.    
        "It's my favorite pastime, Joseph." She studies him carefully, eyes wandering his body. "You look well. Better than the last time I saw you."   
        "You were torturing me, to be fair." He shrugs.   
        "How the tables have turned." She comments airily.    
        "We're not going to torture you, Catherine." He rolls his eyes, and her eyes in turn snap up to meet his.   
        "But you are, aren't you? If you don't get what you want from me, if you find you that somehow I'm lying?" She asks harshly. "The CIA most certainly will, when you turn me over to them."   
        He remains silent, because he knows deep down, she is right.   
        "But that's okay." She whispers. "I've been tortured my whole life."   
        He stares at her for a long moment, studying the darkness and hopelessness swirling in her eyes as she studies her feet.    
        "We were friends, once." He whispers.    
        " _Once_." She repeats. " _Once_ , we were more than friends."    
        "You have to believe me when I tell you I never wanted this." Joe meets her gaze, and she just smiles bitterly.    
        "Of course you didn't, Joe." She turns her back to him, signaling for him to leave. "Of course you didn't."      

* * *

"My, my. This is a surprise." Catherine smirks widely, and Abby freezes, immediately wishing she had not come. "I would never have thought I would see you here, Abigail."   
        Abby's jaw clenches as she takes a step closer to Catherine, who is lounging casually against the wall on the other side of the glass.    
        "You wouldn't come here with out a reason, however. So?" Catherine questions, raising an eyebrow in confusion.    
        Abby is by no means _afraid_ , but all of a sudden she feels uneasy, uncomfortable, foolish.    
        "Edward," is all she can whisper, and it seems very childish and selfish for her to come her, confront Catherine like this.    
        Catherine's laugh is horrible, and Abby's hands clench at her sides.    
        "You came here to ask me about your precious boyfriend?" Catherine chuckles. "Are you really that insecure, Abigail?"   
        She refuses to reply.    
        "You're wondering what he could have seen in me." Catherine's laughter dies. "You're hoping it was a drunken, one time escapade. But you're wrong." Abby's heart squeezes in her chest, and Catherine steps slowly closer to her, close enough that if there wasn't glass between them, Catherine's breath would stir over her face. "We were together for quite awhile. He thought he could _save me_." Catherine scoffs, biting her lip. "But I didn't need saving. And he loved me."   
        " _Shut up_." She seethes, but Catherine continues.    
        "I think it kills you that he ever cared about me, that he loved me before he even knew you. I can still feel his lips on my neck, you know. His hands in my hair and his groans against my ear -"   
        Abby's fists connect with the glass, right in front of Catherine's face, but the other woman doesn't blink. Abby can feel her face reddening at the lost of control, but her body is trembling with anger and shame because Catherine is _right_.   
        "I didn't think you were so sensitive, Abigail." She doesn't even take a step back, but there's a sneer flitting around her lips.    
        "I'm glad that I'll get to see you rot in a cell for the rest of your pathetic life, Catherine." Abby hates how the name tastes in her mouth. "I'll torture you myself."   
        "Oh," Catherine leans closer. "I look forward to it."

* * *

 "Why didn't you tell me?" He asks after roughly ten minutes of just staring at her in silence.    
        "Would you have believed me if I did?" She whispers.    
        They're sitting cross-legged across from each other on the floor, close together.    
        "Do you think it would have changed anything?" Edward questions softly. "If you did tell me? If we did...try to work things out?"   
        "I would like to think so." She replies. "He's a lot like you, you know."   
        "Really?" Edward smiles a bit, and Catherine bits her lip as she nods. "There was a time where I would have done anything for you."   
        "Not anymore, I suppose?" She grins, and he shakes his head.    
        "No, not anymore."  He answers, and for years and years, he was consumed by his _rage_. How she had enraptured him, how she had drawn him into her web. But now - now it has all seeped out of him. He was happy now, with Abby - and hopefully with Zach, and she was _nothing_.   
        "You loved me." She states.   
        "I thought I did." He answers. "But you never loved me."   
        "No." Catherine says emotionlessly. "No, I didn't. I've never loved anyone."           
        "You never could." Edward, looks done at his hands, feeling very stupid and somehow very ashamed.    
        "Is that such a bad thing?" She questions, and he glances up to see a smirk flitting around her lips. "But I admired you. You were smart, strong...but you were foolish."    
        He just stares at her for a long time until she continues.    
        "I liked you, I wanted you, but I didn't love you." She shrugs, and he lets out a long, long sigh.    
        He lays a hand against the glass, and almost immediately she places her hand there, too. Though glass separates them, he still thinks he can feel the coldness of her skin. Her skin was always so cold, and he would spend hours trying to warm her up.    
        "We could have been great, you and I." She whispers, and he refuses to look away from her dark, dark eyes. "We could have made to world rise and fall together, but you could just never let go of your ridiculous morals, and your absurd idea of love."   
        He can't help it; he laughs.    
        "Oddly enough, Catherine, you made me great." He tells her, and her eyes narrow as he rises to his feet. He is unsurprised as she lungs for him, only hitting the glass. He knows Catherine must constantly be in control; she always, _always_ has to be the best person in the room.    
        There's a smile on his lips as he leaves.    


* * *

  "I've been waiting for you." Catherine beams up at her son. Zach just rolls his eyes before flopping onto the floor as far away from his mother as possible.    
        "I never plan on seeing you again, after they move you tonight." He informs her, and she nods, like this is a perfectly rational and normal conversation.    
        "Of course you don't. But I'm not worried - you'll have your darling father."   
        "Don't talk about him." He shakes his head in disgust, and she laughs.    
        "I know you hate me, Zachary, that's no secret." She rolls her eyes. "Why did you come here? I'm glad you did, of course, but still."   
        "Why are you glad?" He breaths, and she feigns surprise.    
        "Because you're my son, my darling boy." She coos, and he shivers. "You know, you loved me, when you were younger."   
        "I suppose you did everything right; gave me toys, made me food, and all of that. Except for trying to turn me into a heartless murderer, of course."   
        "Of course." Catherine agrees. "Maybe I went about it all too directly."   
        "I would have never been like you." He practically growls, and she laughs.    
        "No, you wouldn't have. You're much too like your father." A look of displeasure crosses her face. "I always thought I could make you like me, but I never realized that no one could ever be like me."    
        "You are terribly unique, Catherine." He smirks, and she raises an eyebrow.    
        "Are you really at the age where you can call me by my first name? How much time has gone by." Catherine shakes her head. "You know I will miss you, Zachary. When I'm gone."   
        "I won't miss you." He stands slowly, and she walks slowly to the glass, only inches from him.    
        "I have been this way since I was _born_ , Zachary. It is in my very nature." She informs him.           
        "An awful nature, really."   
        "I can not help the way I am." Her eyes narrows, arms crossed over her chest.    
        "Is this some shitty way of asking for forgiveness?" He steps towards the stairs.    
        "Absolutely not. I have nothing to forgive." She says. "What I am saying is that while I may not love you, you are my _son_. And I would have protected you with my life."   
        "If you were sure that I would carry on your work, if I would have had a better chance." He scoffs.   
        "It still counts for something." She whispers, and he laughs sadly as he leaves.   
        "It counts for _nothing_."   
         


End file.
